


Coin Flip (Tails)

by Anonymous



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Backstory, Break Up, Canon Era, Companion Piece, Crushes, Emotions, M/M, Multi, One Shot, Past Relationship(s), Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Spot sees Race every day, but Race doesn't notice him.That's just fine with Spot.





	Coin Flip (Tails)

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece to [this story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14298669)!! 
> 
> But this one can be read as a stand-alone ^^

Spot remembered the day Race showed up in Brooklyn clear as day. 

Race had followed Twisty around like a lost dog, begging and pleading to sell at Sheepshead until finally, Twisty had enough.

As Race bounded away, Twisty yanked Spot from his hiding place and pointed at Race’s retreating form. “Keep an eye on him. Report back to me.”

With a single nod, Spot trailed behind Race, blending in the streets whenever Race looked over his shoulder. He was glad Race had that much sense in him, but he couldn’t help his small laugh when they reached Sheepshead, Race blowing all his money on bets. 

If he had just come to gamble, Twisty would have let Race be with no trouble. 

Sitting outside the gate, Spot stared at the clouds, imagining their shapes as he waited for the races to be over. It was too long before the announcer spoke loud and clear from the stadium and Spot tucked himself in a nearby alley as he waited for Race to appear. 

He was easy to find, a mess of a kid mixed in with fine gentlemen and squalors alike and Spot started on his tracking again. True to whatever promise Race had babbled on to Twisty, he went directly towards the bridge, a bounce in his step. 

Spot scowled. If Race did as he was told, then this was going to be no fun at all. 

~

Race came every day. 

Spot had hoped to have some days without spying on Race, but as soon as Twisty was alerted of Race’s arrival, there was Spot two steps behind. 

Making sure his papers had been sold quickly, Spot took to whittling as he waited for Race to leave Sheepshead. It was better than staring at the sky and Spot looked over the bird in his hand. 

“Dove?” A voice pulled Spot from his thoughts and he squinted. 

“Nah, pigeon, Kelly.”

Jack shrugged, plucking the wooden bird from Spot’s hand. “Look all the same to me when they’re like this. Should let me paint it for you.”

Spot’s heart skipped and he pursed his lips. “If you wanna.”

Jack pressed up against Spot’s side, leaving Spot to blush at the sudden touch. 

“You uncomfortable?” Jack asked as he tucked the bird away in his pocket. 

“Nah,” Spot shook his head, leaning into Jack. “Just didn’t know we were at this point is all.”

A smirk grew on Jack’s face and he shrugged, glancing all around them. “Heard you were following one of my newsies. Didn’t want you making assumptions about him.”

“Don’t got none besides gambler,” Spot responded. “He does his business and leaves. Kinda boring if you ask me.”

Jack laughed then, shaking his head. “Then you oughta spend time in Manhattan. Kid’s wet behind the ears to this pape business, but he’s smart. That’s what’s scary about him.”

“Scary,” Spot repeated, almost rolling his eyes. “Okay, Jack.”

“Calling me Jack now, huh?”

Spot ducked his head, kicking at a particularly interesting pebble on the ground. What he and Jack were was unspoken. They veered on the edge of dangerous, too much too quickly. He wasn’t in love, no, but he never did shy from sharing a kiss with Jack. 

“I’ll take you someplace nice for dinner first,” Jack spoke low, close to Spot’s ear, and Spot jumped away. 

To his relief, the races were over and he nodded to Jack before he sped after Race’s retreating figure. He didn’t want to think about what Jack had just said.

Oblivious as ever, Race whistled as he walked down the street and Spot grinned to himself. This was nice. No talking, no intruding thoughts, just Spot’s duty of watching Race.

He could get used to this.

~

Spot sat on the fire escape, his legs dangling off the edge as he overlooked the streets.

Up here, he felt like Twisty, surveying Brooklyn, keeping an eye on everything and everyone. It might be nice one day to be in that position and Spot hoped his efforts were being noticed.

Seeing a familiar figure trail down the streets, Spot perked up, his movements stilling as Race walked past the lodging house. He didn’t even glance up, but Spot didn’t mind, allowing him to watch Race as long as he could. Once Race was out of sight, Spot shot from the fire escape and down into the streets to follow after Race.

Today, Race stopped in an alley to light his cigar, taking a few puffs and blowing the smoke up into the air. From his view across the way, Spot wondered what it’d be like to talk to Race. He had heard his voice as he hawked away, passing compliments to strangers, but nothing serious passed Race’s lips. 

Not his deepest thoughts, his concerns of the day.

Spot shrank into his hiding place and frowned. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to care about Race. All that mattered was his business. Why he chose to sell in Brooklyn rather than Manhattan.

By the time Spot shook himself from his thoughts, he almost lost Race, running down the streets to catch up. Again, Race disappeared into Sheepshead and Spot didn’t follow. 

Pulling out a piece of wood, Spot shrank back to his usual seat and whittled away, hardly noticing the face his fingers were carving for him.

~

Jack was too close and Spot turned away, catching his breath.

“Spot, what’s wrong?” Jack asked, concerned as his hands held onto Spot’s waist.

“Nothing,” Spot lied, trying to find a place for his hands on Jack’s shoulders.

This wasn’t anything new to them, but all Spot could feel was irritation. Usually, he let himself fall into Jack’s embrace, the two of them savoring the physicality, but now, Spot didn’t want that. 

“Okay.” Jack wasn’t convinced and he pulled himself away until he was at the opposite side of the alley. “Speak, Conlon.”

Spot glared at Jack, fists clenching at his sides. “I just don’t wanna do anything tonight.”

The corner of Jack’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t rush to argue. Instead, Jack turned his gaze to the entrance of the alley where the street still shined with the rain from earlier. 

“Who is it?” Jack drove the nail into Spot’s heart.

Spot held his composure, breathing out as he met Jack’s wandering eyes. “No one. I just...I think what we got doesn’t work no more.”

Race was a well-guarded secret and Spot wasn’t going to spill his heart to Jack. Not yet. He wanted time for them to move on, for Jack to find someone that wasn’t him. 

“All right,” Jack seemed at a loss for words, his voice cracking just a little. “That’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Spot tried to apologize, but he wondered if he was so sorry after all. 

Seeing Jack’s forlorn face tore at his heart, yet Spot felt relieved. He didn’t want either of them dragging each other along, not when they weren’t even something established. Jack’s reply came in a singular nod before he headed into the street without a goodbye, Spot following to the end of the alley and watching Jack disappear into the night as he sighed. 

This wasn’t how anything was supposed to go, Spot was drowning in his confusion. He didn’t even know Race and here he was, taking over any coherent thought Spot had left. 

With a small huff, Spot marched back to his lodging house all while thinking of how to be rid of Race for good.

~

Race was smiling. 

Spot was too far away to say just why he was, but it was nice. The grin lit up Race’s entire face and he seemed just excited as the other newsie with him as they chatted on. 

It was easy enough. Spot could go up and join the conversation, but he remained where he was. After cutting off what he had with Jack, Spot didn’t want to jump into things. His heart still needed healing, surely.

He had felt something for Jack, but it wasn’t like what he felt with Race. Race was exciting, new, while Jack had been a comfortable routine. Spot knew Race could fall into the same category, but Spot didn’t want to think about that.

When Spot had fallen for Jack, there wasn’t a spark, just mere acceptance. Now, Spot found himself aching for Race’s attention, to have that smile exist because of him. 

Holding onto himself, Spot tucked into the alley, taking a breath. 

As nice as this was, he hated it just the same. He had pushed away a good thing for the uncertainty of Race. He and Jack could’ve been the fearless leaders of their boroughs, brothers in arms, if Spot ever made it to being a leader. Now, all that had been severed for a whim. Spot would be lucky if Jack ever spoke to him again.

Laughter rang clear in the air and Spot stuck his head out of the alley, watching as Race and Clover walked by, not even noticing Spot’s presence as they stayed in deep conversation.

It was all for the best. 

Spot wasn’t ready to speak to Race. There was still too much that needed to be sorted out. It had to be perfect.

Staring after them, Spot’s heart grew heavy and he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground. Race was a faraway dream and Spot could feel him slipping away one day at a time.

~

Spot blinked, hoping Twisty would repeat his words.

“Spot,” Twisty waved his hands in front of Spot’s face. “Can you hear me?”

Shaking his head, Spot met Twisty’s gaze, finding his words. “Me?” he managed out with a small squeak.

“Yes, you,” Twisty ruffled Spot’s hair and Spot swatted his hand away. “You know Brooklyn best, all the kids respect you, it was meant to be.”

Spot wanted to question Twisty’s judgement, thinking of all the times he was chewed out for the littlest mistakes. Even his hardest work didn’t seem to gain any of Twisty’s favor, but Spot was beginning to think Twisty was hiding more than he wanted to admit.

“Well, I won’t let you down,” Spot puffed his chest out, standing tall.

“You better not or I’ll have to come down from the factory to soak you,” Twisty winked as he walked past Spot out of the room. 

Letting out a breath, Spot took a moment to collect himself. He was Brooklyn’s leader now. The responsibility was daunting, but this had been his dream for so long. To be respected, his efforts recognized. Most of all, this was his chance.

He could finally work up the nerve to speak to Race. Spot was sure Race wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to speak to the new kid in charge. How perfect this all was, scenario after scenario swarming through Spot’s mind. 

Smiling to himself, Spot thought out his plan, nodding to no one as he left the room. He was ready to meet Race and he hoped Race was ready too.

~

Race was a goddamn tease.

Spot was still frozen, watching Race leave and he was glad he had enough sense to say goodbye to him. 

He let out his first breath when Race rounded the corner and he stubbed out his cigarette before shoving his face in his hands. 

“What, Clover?” Spot muttered out when he heard nearby rustling.

“Just wanted to know if you wanted me to follow him or something,” they asked, barely caught above the noise of the ship workers.

Spot dragged his hands down his face and sighed. “Yeah. Follow him. Let me know what he does.”

With a nod, Clover bounded away and Spot shook his head climbing up onto his perch on the docks. His newsies would be filing in soon, reports of the day, taking a break from their selling. He supposed news of his position traveled fast and Race wasn’t going to be the only foreign newsie he’d see today. 

Race was the only one that mattered however. 

With his crooked grin, his shining eyes, Spot could feel his heartstrings being pulled at and he traced his finger along a crate, not realizing until halfway through that he was spelling out Race’s name. 

A blush rose to his cheeks and Spot wanted to laugh at himself. He wasn’t supposed to get tangled up in a mess like this, yet here he was, thinking about Race and their first official meeting. At least he wasn’t following him like usual. Not that Spot would have much time for that anymore.

Needless to say, Spot was curious what Race would do, if he would feel the same way as Spot some day. Even if he didn’t, Spot was content enough with friendship. However, Race had accepted his cigarette and in an odd way, Spot might consider that their first kiss. 

Groaning, Spot leaned back until he almost fell off his crate and he rushed back forward, a small laugh leaving him. 

Whatever was to happen between him and Race, Spot could only hope for the best and in all honesty, he couldn’t wait to see what awaited them.

**Author's Note:**

> Spot Conlon: Gay Disaster
> 
>  
> 
> [Chumblr](http://safarikalamari.tumblr.com)


End file.
